Liberty City Stories: Road to Ruin
by Jolly Green Giant
Summary: This is the 1st in a series chronicling the lives of low-level and mid-level thugs in Liberty City. Follow hustler Billy Ferrante as his life begins to spiral downwards when a debt to a Gambetti wiseguy manifests into something he can no longer control.
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note: **Many of these characters belong to Rockstar North, including the setting, the fictional east coast metropolis, Liberty City, however some of them are mine. Set in the winter following Niko Bellic's bloody revenge against Darko Brevic and Dmitri Rascalov for ruining his life. Dwayne Forge has taken over all of Playboy X's criminal empire, assuming the reigns of the North Holland Hustlers. Packie, Gerry and Derrick McReary have, in a similar manner, taken over the Torres Cartel and merged it with their own McReary Family in an attempt to return their Family to the power it once held. In Alderney, Phil Bell and his nephew Frankie Gallo have taken control of the Pegorinno outfit in place of Jimmy Peg and Ray Boccino, respectivley. Niko Bellic still cant seem to leave his past life behind him as he now owns and operates Vlad Glebov's old bar, running it for the Liberty City Bratva, now run by Kenny Petrovic. Niko has also, along with Mallorie Bellic, Roman's widowed bride, taken control of Roman's taxi company.

**Liberty City Stories: Road to Ruin**

The sound of the phone vibrating against the wood on the night stand filled the small apartment, which, for the most part, was empty. A few crates had been stacked up in a corner near a window, holding up a television set fixed with rabbit ears. A radio sat on a rickety table accompanied with two shoddy chairs. Aside from the kitchen and the small bathroom, there was only one other room in the small apartment. A futon couch was pushed up against the wall facing the apartment's only window and to the futon's left was a dresser and to its right was a nightstand. On the nightstand were a vibrating cell phone and half a bottle of Jack Daniels. Laying on the futon was Billy Ferrante.

Groaning and rolling over, swiping at the cell phone, he knocked it off of the nightstand and when he heard it hit the floor he struggled to sit up, bend over and pick it up. Holding it in his right hand as he scratched his head with his left, he checked the caller ID. _Pierce_. With his thumb he flipped the phone open and pressed the SEND button.

"Hello?"

"Yo, Billy, the fuck are you doin' man?"

"I _was_ sleepin', why?"

"Get your ass outta bed, get dressed and get down to the dinner, me and Johnny Boy are waitin' for you."

"Yeah? The fuck are you gonna do if I roll back over and fall asleep?"

"Johnny Boy'll kick in your fuckin' door and drag your ass down here."

"I'm gonna grab a quick shower and I'll be down."

"See ya then, peace."

Billy shut his phone and tossed it back onto the nightstand, next to the bottle of Jack. Sitting on the edge of his bed for a moment, he yawned and stretched and rubbed his face and his heads with his hands. When he got up he grabbed the bottle of Jack, unscrewed the top and took a heavy belt of the whiskey to wake him up. Setting the bottle back down on the nightstand he peeled off his boxers and wife beater and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.

The water was just starting to warm up as he was finishing up and he got out of the shower shivering slightly, his teeth chattering from the cold water that he had showered with. As he toweled off, he noticed that, if nothing else, he was wide awake now.

Going into the living room, he opened up the top drawer of the dresser and grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and socks and put them on. Opening up the second drawer he grabbed a pair of baggy, faded blue jeans and a pair of mesh basketball shorts and he put on the shorts first, then the jeans. He grabbed a belt off of the top of the dresser and looped it through the belt loops on the jeans, then pulled the jeans down so they were a little below his waist and so that his basketball shorts were pulled up higher. Opening the third drawer of the dresser he grabbed a fresh white wife beater, a clean white crew neck t-shirt and a plain black crew neck t-shirt. He put on the wife beater first, then the white t-shirt, followed by the black one. He opened up the fourth and final drawer and grabbed an old, zip-up hooded sweatshirt and pulled it on over the black t-shirt and zipped it up halfway.

Before leaving the apartment he stepped into a pair of size twelve tan work boots and walked over to the nightstand. Taking another gulp of Jack, he set the bottle down and grabbed his cell phone and slipped it into the front left pocket of his jeans and opened the drawer and grabbed his wallet, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a key ring and a Glock 17. He put the wallet in his back left pocket, the cigarettes and lighter in the left pocket of his sweatshirt and the key ring in his front right pocket of his jeans and he hefted the pistol in his left hand and ejected the clip, made sure it was fully loaded then slapped it back into the receiver and jacked back the slide, quickly checking to make sure a round was chambered. He tucked the pistol into his belt, then opened the door and stepped out in the dark, grim hallway and shut the door behind him.

Quickly he made his way down the neglected steps and pushed open the door on the first floor and headed outside. He walked down the stoop and stood on the sidewalk. A light snow was falling on Liberty City and it was only mid November. A long winter was a head of them. His breath condensed into clouds in front of his face as he got a cigarette, put it between his lips, lit it and took a drag.

He stood still for a moment, smoking and surveying the street. It was still relatively earlier, 9:30 going by his cell phone, and the streets and sidewalks of Hove Beach where relatively empty. A few cars rumbled slowly down the street, passing by Billy and a few people ambled up and down the sidewalk, though they mostly looked like winos and drug addicts, they were paying attention to their bottles or their pipes, ignoring Billy totally.

Across the street, in front of Bellic's Bar, the new owner, Niko Bellic, was getting out of his black Emperor four door and he too stood on the sidewalk. Niko took a gulp from a flask and turned to face Billy, who had been watching him the whole time. Niko smiled slightly and waved him over. The two of them had bumped into each other numerous times, mostly when Billy was sitting at the bar in Bellic's, knocking back shots of whiskey and pounding beers. Over the past few weeks Billy had started taking small-time jobs from Niko.

Billy waited for a Marbelle to pass him on the street then headed across, stepping through puddles of slush and snow. By the time he was rounding Niko's Emperor, he was smoking a cigarette of his own. "How's it goin' kid?"

"Not too bad Niko, you?"

"Same shit, different day, as you American's say."

Billy laughed and took a drag off of his cigarette. Niko was wearing a slate suit with a white undershirt and tie to match the jacket and pants and black Italian dress shoes. He reached into the back left pocket of his pants and pulled out a roll of money held together with a rubber band. "Three grand, for the last three jobs, like I promised."

Taking the roll, Billy took off the rubber band and counted it. It was exactly like Niko said it was. "You gotta count it in front of me?"

"I've learned the hard way Niko."

Niko nodded silently and took a drag off of his cigarette. "How are your friends? Pierce and Johnny Boy is it?"

"They're good Niko; I'm going to meet them now, down at the dinner."

Niko nodded. "I might have some more work for you three later if you stop by. Would they be interested?"

"We're always lookin' for work Niko." Billy finished his cigarette and stomped it out before lighting another.

"Good, I'll look around, talk to a few of my associates, and see what I can find for you and your guys."

"Thanks Niko, we appreciate it, good work is hard to come by."

"I was a good worker, like you and your friends, a hard worker too, I know where the good work comes from. Like I said, I'll look around and see what I can scrape together."

"Alright well I gotta get goin', we'll stop by later, I'll talk to you then Niko."

Niko held out his hand and Billy shook it. "Take care of yourself, in this business you can never be too careful, I learned that the hard way."

"You too Niko, I'll catch you later."

Billy headed back across the street and Niko turned and headed into the bar. The snow seemed to pick up as Billy got closer to the 69th Street Dinner and by the time he pulled open the door and stepped inside, the snow was falling hard. Billy brushed the snow that hadn't melted off of his sleeves and shoulders and put his cigarette out in an ashtray on top of a trash can. He spotted Pierce and Johnny Boy sitting at a table at the other end of the dinner before they spotted him.

"Hey, look who it is!" Johnny Boy yelled from his seat as Billy was heading towards them, "Took you long enough," He added, "We were about to order without you."

Sliding into the booth next to Pierce he briefly looked over the menu before setting it back onto the table. "What kept you?" Pierce asked.

"Ran into Niko." He stated, reaching into the right pocket of his sweatshirt for the roll of money.

"Yeah, he have something' for us?"

Billy pulled out the roll of money and counted out a grand for himself, Johnny Boy and Pierce and handed each of them a stack of folded fifty dollar bills that added up to a thousand dollars. Pierce and Johnny Boy each counted their money for themselves and, satisfied, added the grand to the money clips they carried in their pockets.

"Yo, waitress! Over here!" Johnny Boy shouted, raising his hand up and waving a waitress over.

She looked over worked and tired and sighed as she took out her pad and pen and approached the booth. "What'll it be?" She asked looking at Johnny Boy.

"Gimme an omelet with peppers, onions, pepperoni, and ham, lemme get some hash browns, an order of toast and some bacon."

"You want white or wheat bread?"

"White, with butter and strawberry jelly." Her pen flew across the pad.

"Whadda you want?" She asked to Pierce.

"Just two scrambled eggs and three pancakes." Her pen scratched away furiously and her brow furrowed.

"And you?" She asked to Billy.

"I'll have three chocolate chip pancakes, an order of hash browns, an order of bacon, an onion bagel with cream cheese and two scrambled eggs with hot sauce and ham."

"Whadda you want to drink honey?"

"Coffee, black."

"Comin' right up." The waitress replied before closing her notepad and slipping her pen behind her ear.

She turned on the balls of her heels and headed back for the kitchen. When she was out of earshot, Billy spoke up. "So what's on the menu for today?"

Pierce took a sip of coffee and set it back down on the table before rubbing his hands together. "We gotta move the rest of the shit, _tonight_, Richie Tominello is waitin' for his cut, says we're runnin' out of time."

"How much we got left to sell?"

"Five pounds, give or take an ounce or two." Johnny Boy replied bluntly.

"The fuck? We been sellin' it steadily, two pounds a night, how'd this happen?"

Pierce and Johnny Boy both shrugged. "We thought we were keeping' tabs on it, it honestly snuck up on us."

"How much does Richie want tonight?"

"He wants it all, all $15,400, every fuckin' dime. That and he's callin' in all our losses in his sports book."

"What the fuck? So how much is that gonna be?"

"Total or our losses?"

Billy cocked an eyebrow and folded his arms over his chest after taking a sip of coffee. "The total's gonna be close to thirty-two grand, probably over that, knowing that cocksucker Richie."

"Right, well, how much we got stacked up?"

"I got seven grand at my place," Johnny Boy replied, "you guys? How much you got?"

"I got six I think, maybe a little less. What about you Billy?"

Billy shook his head. "I don't know, I couldn't give you a number, maybe between five and seven large."

"OK, well we got $9,900 of the $15,400, the fuck are we gonna do for the other eighteen?"

"That's the thing, I don't fuckin know Billy, even if we pool all of our savings we'll probably be short."

"We can sell the rest of the shit tonight, I know we can, all I gotta do is talk to Niko and I guarantee he'll be able to find a couple buyers, fuck, he might be able to find one guy who wants it all. We'll go talk to him after this."

"That's fuckin' great Billy, but what about the rest of the money we owe Richie?"

"Fuck that, any self respecting bookie or loanshark knows you gotta give a guy a two or three weeks notice before you collect a huge payment. I don't know about you guys, but I've been on time with my dues before this, so fuck that, Richie's gonna have to wait."

"Alright Billy, well, you can tell him that tonight, ok? Tell him that fuckin' verbatim; see how long it takes before we find you in the trunk of a car down in BOABO."

"Well what were you thinkin' about doin' Johnny Boy? There is no way we can cover it all, we can get twenty thousand together, _maybe_. So what's Richie gonna do? He's gonna have to let us walk, no way he's gonna whack us, it'll cost him too much, won't be worth it."

"Well then he breaks our thumbs or our knees or some shit."

Billy shook his head. "I don't think so, it wouldn't be a smart thing for Richie to do, it would put us in the hospital and we'd have bills to pay, so that's just more money that isn't going to Richie and his bosses."

The waitress returned with their meals and each meal down in front of the man who had ordered it. She brought the tray back and then returned with Dominic's coffee and extra syrup. "Sorry about that wait with the coffee Hun, had to make a fresh pot. Anything else I can get you boys?"

"Don't worry about it," Billy replied, "I think we're all set, thank you."

For a moment their conversation paused as they tore into their meals. Billy and Pierce buttered up their pancakes and drowned them in syrup. Johnny Boy spread the strawberry jelly across his two slices of toast while Billy spread butter and thick cream cheese over the two halves of his bagels. All three of them sprinkled pepper and hot sauce over their eggs and then, finally, they dug in.

They finished up about ten minutes later and, after talking amongst each other for a moment while finishing their drinks, they paid their bills, left a good tip got up and left. Standing out in the blizzard Billy grabbed his pack of cigarettes, took one and passed it around and then lit his while Johnny Boy and Pierce each took one for themselves. "Where to now? Billy asked, exhaling smoke while the other two light their own cigarettes.

"Some cat owes me twenty-five hundred over in the projects," Pierce replied, heading for the driver's side door of his black Cavalcade.

Billy opened the front door and climbed inside while Johnny Boy got in the back. "Think he'll give you any shit?"

Pierce shrugged as he started the car and pulled out into traffic, heading for the Firefly Projects. "He shouldn't, it's only twenty-five hundred."

"Well what if he does give you shit; what if he's a cowboy?"

"You got your heater on you?" Pierce asked, looking at Billy, who nodded, "Good, so do I and so does Johnny Boy. This mo'fucka's been duckin me for weeks, and this is his last shot and if he doesn't got anything to pay up with, we'll drain him."

Billy laughed and smoked his cigarette, eyeing the sidewalks as they navigated the streets of Broker. By the time he finished his cigarette Pierce was parallel parking his Cavalcade into a parking spot in front of the apartment where the guy lived. Pierce put the SUV into park and took the keys from ignition and slid them into his pocket. While Billy rolled down the window to flick his cigarette out into a puddle, Pierce reached across to open the glove compartment and when he did a Desert Eagle fell into Pierce's hand. He took it in his right hand and jacked back the slide, checking to make sure a round was chambered. "You two ready?" He asked as he tucked the hand cannon into the waistband of his jeans at his back.

The other two nodded and they got out of the car all at once. While Johnny Boy and Billy waited for Pierce to come around the Cavalcade, Johnny Boy quickly checked his short barreled, nickel plated .357 revolver and slipped it into the pocket of his leather jacket, wrapping his hand around the black grip.

They followed Pierce into the apartment building and up several flights of stairs. When they reached the sixth floor the two of them followed him off the staircase and down the hallway. Upon reaching the apartment, Pierce drew his Desert Eagle and knocked on the door with the barrel. "The fuck is it?" A voice demanded from inside.

"It's Pierce; you got that twenty-five hundred?"

Before they got an answer they heard shuffling and muffled voices from within the apartment. No answer came. "I asked you a motha-fuckin question; do you got my money?"

After waiting a few seconds no answer came and Pierce stepped back and kicked the door in, busting the lock and the doorknob into steel and splinters, and the door swung inwards and with great force it collided with the wall. The guy who owed Pierce money was sitting on a ratty, moth-eaten couch on the other side of the room, facing the doorway. All that stood between him and Pierce was a coffee table. On the coffee table was a pile of coke on a tray, an ashtray with a burning cigarette, a cell phone and a Glock 17. Billy saw the pistol and immediately drew his own and, along with Pierce, aimed it at the guy.

"Where's my money Drew?" Pierce asked.

Drew sniffled and brushed coke away from his nose with his thumb. "I don't have it for you today Pierce, come back next week."

"You been duckin and avoidin me for weeks, I'm done with that shit. Where's my money?"

"I told you Pierce, I don't have it now, but I can get it soon."

"You said that at the beginning of the month. I want my money now asshole."

Drew looked at the Glock on the coffee table and then his eyes drifted towards a door that led to either a bathroom or a kitchen. Billy followed his eyes and could see two small shadows on the other side of the door; feet. "Hey, you guys want some blow?" Drew asked.

From beyond the door Billy could hear two soft clicking noises, a hammer being cocked or a safety being released. "No Drew, we don't want any blow, we want my money."

A long, uneasy silence followed and Drew just sat there looking at the three guys. Pierce and Billy were both watching him, their weapons pointed at his head and Johnny Boy stood behind them, looking around the apartment, his right hand in his pocket wrapped around the butt of his .357 and a cigarette burning between his lips. Drew coughed and edged closer to the coffee table. His right hand twitched towards the Glock and his eyes locked with Pierce. The doorknob on the only door in the apartment creaked and twisted to the right and it slowly slid open, unnoticed by everyone but Drew.

When the door was almost cleared of the frame, Drew went for the Glock on the coffee table. Pierce and Billy were faster and they both fired several shots into his torso and face, peppering him and the furniture with bullets, kicking up gore and fluffy gobs of material that filled the cushions. Billy fired the last shot into Drew; it hit him in the forehead, just above his right eye, and Billy watched as Drew's brains jet out the back of his head and hit the window and shades on the wall behind him.

By that time the only other door in the apartment has swung open and Pierce has already forgotten about Drew. Two large Mafioso looking guys are standing on the other side of the door. One is holding a Glock; the other is holding a Micro-Uzi. Both of them are dressed in silk suits and both of them are firing into the apartment's main room. All at once Pierce, Johnny Boy and Billy scramble for cover. Billy dives behind the end of the couch and Pierce and Johnny Boy take refuge behind the overturned table in the kitchen.

The two mobsters stride out into the main room, slowly swinging their Micro-Uzi's right to left, spraying everything in the room with bullets. The couch, Drew and the table in the kitchen are all peppered with bullets. At the same time the two mobsters make a fatal mistake; they run out of ammunition. Both of the fumble for fresh magazines and as they do Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy pop up from behind their cover.

Bullets riddle the two mobsters and they fall backwards in an uncontrollable jig induced by the bullets that stitch across their torsos and arms. One of the mobsters had managed to reload before being cut down and his Micro-Uzi sprays bullets into the ceiling as he crumples to the ground. Weapons empty and smoking, Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy stand up and reload in an eerie silence. Blood is still pumping from the three dead men as the three shooters quickly tear through the apartment looking for items of value.

Pierce dashes into the bedroom the two mobsters were hiding in and returns with a suitcase filled with cocaine. One bag is missing and all three of them guess correctly that the pile of cocaine on the coffee table in front of Drew's limp corpse is that missing bag. Billy pockets Drew's Glock and pats him down, quickly finding a wad of money held together with a rubber band. He thumbs through it before slipping it into his pocket. Johnny Boy grabs the two Micro-Uzis and five grand, total, from the two mobsters.

They all turn around in unison and found themselves starring down a shaky guy aiming a Winchester 1300 pump action shotgun at them. "W-what happened here?"

"Who the fuck is you?" Pierce demanded.

"I'm asking the fucking questions here." He didn't look comfortable, he looked unnerved. "What happened?"

"The motha-fucka on the couch owed me money. I don't know who these two grease balls were, do you?" Pierce asked, gesturing towards the slain mobsters and the newcomer with his Desert Eagle.

"Drew told me we were gonna stick those guys up and rob 'em."

"Oh." Pierce replied flatly.

Pierce looked to Billy and jerked his head towards the newcomer. Quickly Billy raised his Glock 17 and fired three shots into the guys face. He crumpled to the floor like a rag doll and as they stepped over him Billy scooped up the shotgun. They ran down the stairs as fast as they could and more than once they almost lost their footing and tumbled down in a heap.

When they reached the ground floor and calmly surveyed the street. It was still snowing heavily and no one looked to be concerned with the shooting that had just taken place; typical Liberty City. Pierce emerged from the apartment building first, followed closely by Johnny Boy and Billy. Without a word they got into Pierce's Cavalcade and without a second look at the apartment building Pierce pulled out of the parking spot and headed down the street.

"We gotta get off the fuckin' street; you know a place we can go?" Pierce asked, taking a cigarette from Billy's pack.

Billy tossed the pack back to Johnny Boy and thought the question over as he lit his own cigarette. He exhaled, and then nodded. "Yeah, I know a place, for now, just drive, give it a while, then head for Hove Beach."


	2. Chapter Two

The back room of Bellic's Bar was dark and poorly light, even for it being early in the evening. Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy sat in the pieces of furniture that Niko had picked out to decorate Vlad Glebov's old office, which now belonged to him. Billy sat in a chair right in front of Niko's desk and Johnny Boy and Pierce lounged on a couch on the opposite end of the room from the desk.

The three of them had only just arrived at the bar; they had spent most of the day driving around Firefly Island drinking bottles of liquor concealed in paper bags and toking on joints in an attempt to relax and get their minds off the shootings. They had, for the most part, succeeded but they couldn't hide from it forever, eventually they had to stop moving and talk to someone about it. That someone was Niko Bellic.

He had left the three of them a few minutes earlier to deal with an unruly customer, but when he returned, it was with a bottle of vodka in one hand and four shot glasses in the other. He silently set them up on his desk and poured everyone a shot and when he was done he motioned for everyone to come over and take a glass. They clinked their glasses together then knocked the shots back.

"So," Niko began, "What is it you've come to see me about? You need work?"

"Actually, we think some people might be looking for us, some of…uh…_your_ people."

Niko looked confused. "I don't have any people-"

"I mean the people you used to work for, you know, mob guys, like Phil Bell and Ray Boccino."

Laughing, he poured each of them another shot. "Why would the mafia be after you?"

"Earlier today we were collecting some money from some dead beat who owes Pierce. We go into his place and he starts pulling some shit with us, so we waste him and then these two big goombah lookin' mother fuckers come out of the bedroom and start shootin' at us. We drained them too."

Niko sat back in his chair and lit up a cigarette, then offered the pack to the trio in front of them and each of them took one. Before continuing, Niko waited for them to light their cigarettes and get a few drags in. While he was waiting Niko noticed a large black gym bag lying on the ground next to the left arm of the couch, where Johnny Boy was sitting. "What's in the bag?" He asked, pointing towards it with the hand that held a cigarette.

Billy looked back at it and then got up and walked over to it, grabbed it and brought it back over to Niko's desk. Billy tipped it upside down and then unzipped it, letting the contents of the bag tumble out onto the top of Niko's desk. The two Micro-Uzi's, the Winchester 1300 pump and Drew's Glock 17 along with all of the bags of cocaine save for the one Drew was sampling, where soon staring Niko Bellic right in the face.

"Why bring that to me? I don't want any of that shit, not here."

"We need your help Niko; we owe Richie Tominello a shit load of money and he wants it all tonight. We were wondering if you could sell the guns and the coke, we'll split it with you seventy-thirty."

"Riche Tominello, that bum bookie with the Gambetti Family? How much do you owe him?"

"Close to thirty-five thousand."

"How much do you have?"

"A little over half of what we owe him."

There was a long silent pause. They all smoked their cigarettes in silence. Niko looked to be having some sort of epiphany with the way he was staring almost blankly at the door. By the time they finished their cigarettes Niko was still apparently in deep thought. Only when Billy moved to light himself another cigarette did Niko come out of his trance.

"I can sell the guns for you, probably the drugs too. If you want I can call up some of my associates and get some leg work for you _tonight_, I can do that too."

"How much work can you get us?"

"I'm not sure, but this is a busy city Billy, always someone needin' someone else killed or some product moved."

"But you can sell the guns and the blow right?"

Niko nodded as he took out his cell phone. "I can take care of that in two phone calls. In three I can get you some work. You'd be amazed at what I can do in four."

Niko pressed a few buttons then placed the phone to his ear and for a few seconds the only sound was a muffled ringing. After about ten seconds a man with a thick Jamaican accent answered. He spoke a few unintelligible words and then was silent. "Jacob, listen, I got some pieces I need to get rid of, you think you can help me out?" Niko paused as Jacob yammered on.

"Yeah Jacob, they're hot, but when was the last time you had a problem moving heaters?" Once again Niko was silent as Jacob replied.

"Alright, thanks Jacob, see you in a little bit."

As soon as Jacob hung up, Niko punched a few more buttons then put the cell phone back to his ear. "_Yo Niko, my man, what's up? You wanna go bowlin' or grab some beers sometime?"_

"I can't right now Dwayne, but I do have a proposition for you."

"_I'm all ears Niko, lay it on me."_

"Would you have a problem movin', I don't know, a couple keys of coke?"

"_A couple keys, that all? You must be fuckin' me Niko. That shit's pocket change, besides; I ain't in the game anymore."_

"Come on Dwayne, just this once, you know I always payback any favors in spades."

Dwayne laughed. _"My man…gimme like, forty-five minutes, I'll swing by and pick the shit up. I gotta talk to a couple guys I know, see what's good in the hood, see what they can do for old Dwayne."_

"Sounds great, see you then Dwayne."

"_Peace_." The line went dead and Niko pulled the phone away from his ear for a second time, again only punching in a few buttons before returning the cell phone to his ear.

The phone rang the longest this time and Niko was about to hang up when he finally got an answer. _"Hello?"_

"Packie, its Niko, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"_Not at all Niko my man, you need anything?"_

"Actually Packie, I got a couple guys who need some leg work and I thought, since you're always up to something, you could use a couple extra guys. Whaddya think, can you help out an old friend?"

A strong snorting could be heard over the phone and Niko pulled the phone away from his ears. It was followed up by several smaller sniffles. _"You're in luck my friend, me and Gordon and his cousin are suiting up for a job right now, tell your guys to meet us at the Beer Garden in Steinway."_

"You got it Packie, they'll meet you there."

Niko hit the END button on his cell phone and slipped it back into its pocket on the inside of his suit coat. "There, I told you guys I could take care of things. You know how to get to the Beer Garden?" All three of them nodded, "Good, meet Packie there. When the job is done, come back here, I should have some of the money for you. While you're gone I'll talk to a guy I know in the Gambetti Family, see if any of their guys turned up dead today."

Billy could only nod. They gave Niko their thanks before leaving and they all shared one last shot of vodka before heading out to Pierce's Cavalcade. It was a twenty minute drive from Niko's bar in Hove Beach to the Beer Garden in Steinway. They parked in an alley behind the Beer Garden and went inside to find the place mostly empty and only a small group of men huddled around the bar.

"Hello?" Billy yelled to the men around the bar.

Startled, all at once the men turned to them wielding pistols. "We're closed! The fuck do you jokers want!?"

"I'm Billy, Niko Bellic sent us. These are my partners, Pierce and Johnny Boy. We're looking for Packie McCreary."

A man as tall as Niko stepped forward, he was wearing a heavy, black winter coat, a green t-shirt underneath, faded blue jeans and tan construction boots. "I'm Packie; this is my main man Gordon Sargent and his cousin Jackie DiMeo." Packie replied, gesturing to Gordon then to Jackie before waving Billy and his crew over to the bar.

"You guys want some blow? How about some booze?"

Billy shook his head. "We're good, thanks. What are we gonna be doin'?"

"You ever heard of the Lee Triad? Those bastards are always getting under my skin, like a bunch of fuckin' ticks. The boss's nephew, Huang Lee, owns a place called Huang's Wokery over in Chinatown in Algonquin. It's a short order takeout place, but in the back Huang's got a money laundering racket set up. All of the money the Lee Triad makes for the week is moved through that place and cleaned and most of the time Huang is there, personally overseeing the operation, making sure no one skims off the top."

"Who gives a fuck? We gonna pick up some Chinese food or something, some General Tso's chicken?" Pierce retorted.

"Didn't you fuckin' listen to me? The Lee Triad is giving my associates problems and their giving me problems. We're gonna go to Huang's Wokery, bust the place wide open and take as much cash as we can and I'm gonna put a bullet in Huang's head personally."

Packie slapped Gordon lightly on the arm and he and Jackie stepped away from the previously hidden bar. On the bar top the crew had arranged several pistols, shotguns and submachine guns and they were currently blowing down lines of coke, knocking back shots of whiskey and threading rounds into magazines and chambers. "You guys got a ride 'n' some pieces?"

"Yeah, we got a ride, and we got a few pistols." Billy answered.

Packie laughed, "You're gonna need more than pistols mate, these chinks guard their money with assault rifles," Packie tossed a Winchester 1300 to Johnny Boy and a Micro-Uzi to Pierce and Billy, "Follow us to the place, park across the street. We're doin' a quick in and out, faster than it takes to place an order for Lo Mein."

All at once they went out to their cars and Pierce, Billy and Johnny Boy got into the Cavalcade and when they saw Packie's car pass them by in the alley, Pierce started up the SUV and followed behind them the whole way. They had the radio tuned into Liberty Rock Radio 97.8 and they talked about bullshit, smoking on a blunt for most of the ride. Rocky Mountain Way was coming over the speakers as they pulled into a parking spot across from Huang's Wokery. Pierce killed the engine and they got out of the Cavalcade. Billy took two last hits off the blunt and passed it to Johnny Boy, who himself took a few hits before flicking it into the darkness of an alleyway.

While the two of them rounded the front of the Cavalcade they quickly cocked back the hammers on their Micro-Uzis then slid them under their coats, wrapping their hands tightly around the grip, concealing them with their right arms and their jackets. Packie, Gordon and Jackie were walking down the street from where they parked, checking their own weapons one last time. "Almost forgot," Packie began, tossing three ski masks to Pierce, Billy and Johnny Boy, "You uh, might want those."

The three pulled them on quickly and as soon as they did Packie pulled his pair of Glock 17's from within his coat, tugged down his ski mask, turned and kicked open the front door of the Wokery. His crew followed in behind him, streaming in smoothly and taking up positions to Packie's left and right, sliding into place and taking aim with their weapons. "Alright you mother fuckin' gooks, this is a stick up!" Packie yelled at the top of his lungs.

For a moment the three cashiers and one customer stood frozen with terror, staring right into Packie's eyes. "Fuck it," He whispered, "No survivors."

All at once the six of them opened fire, cutting down the four pedestrians in a hail of gunfire. The customer took a shotgun blast the chest and a barrage of bullets to the face and crumpled against the counter, leaving a smeared webbing of gore as she slid slowly to the floor. Bullets obliterated menus, cash registers, glass displays, walls, fluorescent lights and paper mobiles. The three cashiers ducked for cover and one of them, before he could get down behind the counter, caught a round from one of Packie's Glocks' in the side of the head. His brains flew from just above his right ear and hit the back wall.

After a few brief moments the gunfire ceased and Packie stepped forward. He spotted motion in the back room and fired three quick shots through the window where prepared food sat waiting to be placed in the cookers in the counter display. He hit nothing. Everyone advanced behind him and unexpectedly Packie burst forward in a quick sprint and slammed into the counter top and leaned forward. The two remaining cashiers were huddled down in fear and Packie squeezed off a half a dozen shots into their faces.

"Go check the back Gordon, I'm gonna have me a smoke." Packie ordered as he tucked one of his Glocks away and got himself a cigarette. A few moments after Gordon disappeared into the back room the thunder of gunfire once again came to their ears and all of them jumped, raised their weapons and fired.

After fully emptying their magazines they reloaded and listened and waited in silence. Packie's still unlit cigarette dangled between his lips. "Gordon, are you alright?" He asked hesitantly, half waiting for a barrage of gunfire to answer him.

"I'm fine Packie, some chink tried to get the jump on me but I got him."

"Good." Packie replied, lighting his cigarette "Let's go see how we did, shall we?"

They followed Packie into the kitchen and found three tables piled high with cash. Quickly they grabbed their extra duffle bags and began to cram as much money into them as they could. Occupied with shoveling arm full's of fifty dollar bank notes into their duffel bags and lost in ecstasy at their haul, they didn't hear the footsteps thundering down the stairs in the back of the kitchen, nor the sound of the hammer of an assault rifle being cocked. Only Billy ever saw the three armed Triad soldiers and even by then it was too late. He didn't even have time to fire his Micro-Uzi. The first burst of gunfire stitched across Gordon's exposed back, slamming him down onto one of the tables, spilling the money everywhere as rounds hammered into his back.

Billy returned fire and sprayed a dozen bullets across Gordon's killer's chest and Billy watched as crimson blot after crimson blot burst into his chest, spraying gobs of blood in every which way as the man shook from the impact of the bullets. As he collapsed to the floor he sprayed his AK-47 in a wild arc, jacking bullets into the tiled walls and up into the ceiling.

By that time the other four opened fire on the two remaining gunmen. They took care of them with little more than a spray of bullets and a few shotgun shells. Before Gordon even fully came to rest the three gunmen where laying in a bloody heap of their own.

A fourth man came down the stairs slowly, but no one fired. Packie recognized him immediately. "Huang, so nice of you to show up!" Packie yelled before shooting him in the kneecap with one of his Glocks.

Huang dropped his Desert Eagle and fell to the ground in a heap, clutching his shattered knee cap and screaming in agony. Packie let this continue for a moment or two before shooting him again. The bullet hit Huang right in the chest and knocked him backwards onto the floor. He began to yell and scream to them in Chinese, but Packie paid him no mind. Ignoring the unintelligible babble, Packie strode over to him, leveled off his Glock and fired two rounds right into Huang's face, forever silencing him.

"Come on let's get the fuck outta here."

They bolted outside and stood for a moment in the blizzard. "You hold on to what you got for now, I'll have Niko get in touch with you in a few days once shit cools down and will sort everything out right, that ok with you guys?"

Packie seemed different somehow. He wasn't as cool or wound up as he had been fifteen minutes ago. His adrenaline was probably cranking out of control, but he seemed kind of spaced out. Maybe all of the cocaine was finely wearing off. Or maybe seeing his best friend blown away in front of his eyes had jarred some sort of emotion deep down inside of him. "Hey, don't go ape shit on me now, you guys understand me1?" There was the old Packie.

Pierce nodded. "Yeah we got it cracka, we'll be in touch."

Sirens sounded in the distance and the two crews dashed back to their vehicles and sped off in different directions. For a long time Pierce drove idly around Algonquin, taking turns at random. After maybe fifteen or twenty minutes they went to a Burger Shot to grab a couple cheeseburgers, some French fries and some Sprunks. Once they got their food they drove around through Star Junction and headed up to North Holland while they ate. When their food was gone they smoked cigarettes, passing around a pack that Pierce picked up at a gas station when he went in to grab some drinks; a pint jug of orange juice for Billy, a Sprunk for Johnny Boy and an energy drink for Pierce.

They eventually made their way back to Broker and then Hove Beach after that. They parked in front of Niko's bar almost two and a half hours after they departed for Steinway. No one got in their way or questioned them as they strode through Niko's bar, cigarettes in one hand, duffel bags in the other and headed into Niko's office in the back. As they entered they found Niko on the phone smoking a cigarette of his own. He motioned for them to sit down.

"Alright, thanks Phil, I appreciate it, believe me, we'll be in touch." Niko finished and hung up the phone.

"Who was that?"

"Phil Bell, an old friend of mine. He stepped up to run the old Pegorinno mob and he ended up merging what was left of Pegorinno's small outfit with the Gambetti Family after Ray Boccino and Jimmy Peg bit the dust."

"Wasn't it you who bumped those two off?"

"I did have to kill Ray and I can only wish I could have gotten my hands on Pegorinno. His nephew Frankie Gallo knows a few mid-level guys in the Gambetti Family."

"Yeah," Pierce began eagerly, "They know anything about those two guys earlier?"

Niko nodded and added some vodka to his glass. "They were connected, both of them made guys."

No one spoke for a while. "So what, are the Gambetti's gonna come after us?"

Shaking his head, Niko took a sip of vodka, "Not at the moment; the Gambetti's don't know who killed their two guys, as far as they know it was that Drew low life and the partner of his you wasted."

"Great, that's great." Pierce replied.

"How'd the job with Packie go?"

Billy sighed and lit a cigarette. "Not good, the guy got all coked up and went apeshit, killed everyone in his way. One of his guys bit the dust; I don't know if you knew him."

"Who was it?"

"Gordon Sargent, some gook came up behind us and sprayed him with an assault rifle."

Niko shook his head and took another sip of vodka. "I knew Gordon, that's too bad about him," Niko scratched his eyebrow thoughtfully, "That's how it happens in the business. You guys get what you need to pay off Tominello?"

Billy shrugged. "I don't think so; we only managed to grab a couple thousand before everything went to shit. We might have twenty-five or thirty grand now between the three of us, but I doubt we have enough to cover what Tominello wants from us."

"You got a plan B in case he wants more? You think of that yet?"

For a moment the three of them only looked at each other in shocked silence. Billy took out and sparked a fresh cigarette and took a few drags. "What do you think we should do?" Pierce finally asked.

Niko shrugged and took another sip of his vodka and ice, then took a drag off of his cigarette. "Wiseguy like Tominello might think you owe him even more than you already think you do. One thing I learned in this city is that you can't trust guineas, especially guineas with something to prove, lookin' to make a name for himself. They're all a bunch a fuckin' cowboys in this city. I only met one guinea I could trust and he was an old fuckin' man."

"What about Phil Bell? He runs the Pegorinno outfit, he's a guinea, and he didn't betray you." Johnny Boy suggested.

"Me and Phil never tried to kill each other because we could both see eye to eye, because we were both on the same level and we understood each other. That and he is half Irish."

Billy, Pierce and Johnny Boy remained emotionally blank. "What I'm gettin' at is that this could be a set up. You could be walkin' right into a fuckin' trap."

Billy shook his head. "No, I don't think so, we've known Richie since we was kids."

"Don't matter; he owes his bosses that money that you owe him. He's lookin' to pay them all back and if you don't have all the money, he could kill you to make his bosses happy."

Pierce mumbled something to himself and Johnny Boy spoke up. "Richie wouldn't do that, he might be all mobbed up but he still remembers who his friends are."

Nodding, Niko took another sip of vodka. "That guy you killed earlier, he didn't have all the money you owed him, right?"

"That's different; he's been annoying me for almost a month now."

"Those guineas are five times as strict as you are. You miss one payment or if you can't come up with the money, they take something from you and if you miss another they take you; understand?"

Niko surveyed the three friends and all saw a stunned look on their faces. Pierce was growing angry, Johnny Boy was locked in deep thought and Billy looked very calm and cool. "Look, if that happens, we'll think of something, but don't worry Niko, it won't happen."

Billy looked to Pierce and Johnny Boy and they got up. "Time to go?" Niko asked.

"Yeah," Billy replied.

Niko raised his glass to them and then took a sip and set it back down on the desk. "You come back here after this is done, I'll be waiting and if something goes wrong I'll be ready." Niko told them as they headed out of his office.

The very grim statement hung in the back of Billy's mind all the way out to Pierce's car and it still was rattling around in his skull as they drove around to their safehouses located around Broker and collected all the money they could afford to spare. Once that was done they pulled into a Burger Shot before heading over to Tominello's hang down in BOABO. After they went in and ordered combo meals, got their drinks and collected their sodas, they returned to Pierce's Cavalcade to enjoy their meal. They ate slowly and deliberately. When they were done Billy passed around his pack of cigarettes. "Count the money Johnny Boy; I wanna know what he have before we go to meet Richie."

While Johnny Boy counted, Billy and Pierce smoked their cigarettes and watched cars roll by slowly on down the street. It was still snowing heavily and it looked like it wasn't going to let up any time soon. By the time their cigarettes were done, they had a number.

"Twenty-nine thousand, "Johnny Boy stated finally, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, "Not a buck more."

"You sure? Maybe you missed some."

"I've been good with money since I got drinks for my uncles' Saturday poker games when all his buddies tipped me to go get them drinks and sandwiches. We don't got a cent over twenty-nine large."

"What do you wanna do?" Pierce asked, looking to Billy.

"It's your call man; I don't give a fuck either way. Keep in mind that if we don't show up, he's going to automatically know we don't have the money, but if we do maybe we could reach a deal."

"I say we go for it." Johnny Boy replied, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Billy nodded and shrugged his shoulders and Pierce leaned back into the driver's seat and started up his Cavalcade. He pulled out of the parking spot in front of Burger Shot and headed south to BOABO. "You got your heaters?" Pierce asked as the Algonquin Bridge Overpass loomed ominously in the distance.

"The fuck for?" Billy asked cautiously.

"What do you think?"


End file.
